


Blue Ice & Emerald Fire

by ZsadistCortel



Series: Hetalia Angst Universe (HAU) [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Execution, Internal Monologue, M/M, Sexual Abuse, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:36:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZsadistCortel/pseuds/ZsadistCortel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If France could speak, he would surely be crushing the pristine image England had of the former Canada.  Side drabble to the HAU Series. Set during #8.  'He came to me.  Did you know?  In his loneliness I was the only one who could help him.'  France remembered the day well.  'Could you bare it if I told you?  Would it break you if you knew it was your fault as well?  I hope so.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Ice & Emerald Fire

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

 

Do you know, mon L'Angleterre, that your precious Canada was no virgin when he died? I had already thoroughly tainted his purity. Oh, how I wish I could taunt you with that little tidbit of information. But, alas, I cannot. The gag in my mouth prevents me from speaking and my limbs are restrained by ropes that cut into the skin. I'm sure you did that on purpose. You always did enjoy seeing me in pain. Does Amérique know how sadistic you are? I'll bet you hide it from him. You, with your stupid sentimental notions and so-called morals. You are just as bad as I. Admit it.

If I told you, would you cry? Cry like you did when I managed to catch you alone and vulnerable just after Amérique's revolution? I had so much fun reliving your childhood that day, even if you ruined the mood a bit by screaming for help and calling Amérique's name constantly. I thought I had taught you better than that, mon chou. It is bad form to call another person's name in the middle of sex. Very bad form indeed. But I digress. I was going to tell you about how I tainted my son so very thoroughly in the years before his unfortunate demise.

It may surprise you to find out that it was he that came to me. He came seeking comfort, affection, -any form of attention he could find- and I was the only one who could help him. That is what he told me. As I seemed to always remembered him existence he decided that we should engage in a dalliance of sorts with one another. I, of course, had no objections. He may have been my son but I had not raised him and he was practically a stranger to me and I to him. I remember the day well. 

It was raining. I was sitting in the salon, sipping at a fine glass of my wine, when the doorbell rang. The maid showed him in. What a sight he was, my pretty son. He was dripping wet and his violet eyes pleaded for attention as he watched me from below pale lashes. So timid! Innocent and shy, how I relished the thought of tainting that. And he asked me to fuck him. Just like that. He even used that word. I simply smiled at him in my usual breathtaking manner and led him to my bedroom so that I could acquiesce. I had fun with him too. 

He came to me every so often over the next few years. My son was so willing to do anything I wanted just to get some attention for once! It was almost sad. When I heard he was dead, I felt a little sadness even. Such good toys are hard to find.

I want so badly to tell you all of this and watch as the world shatters in your lovely emerald eyes. I always loved to make that happen, to see your expression as you realized how wrong you were about something. But I can see that you grow impatient with my living. Right now I'm lying on the cold stone floor of a cell and you are talking to someone outside my cell in hushed tones.

You opened the door to my prison, a gun in hand, and smile. I'm confused for a moment but then you crouch down and press the barrel of the gun to the side of my head and I understand. You are about to kill me. It's a pity you will never know the truth. I manage a rather vicious smirk around my gag as I hear the gun click and the world stops. Your orbs of emerald fire are the last thing my eyes of blue ice see. I hope they haunt you.

 

*The End*


End file.
